'You'll be all right,' de Gier said, 'but do tell me how you got there.'
\\ 8 /////
Do you two really have to content yourselves with this little rustbucket?' the commissaris had asked, while bouncing about in his seat. 'I'm against total equality, but maybe some distances between ranks are a tittle stretched. Now look at me, with my super Citroen. Can't you two wangle a new car out of die administration? If you'd only try, you'd have a brand-new vehicle within a month. 1*11 countersign the application with pleasure. It'll make me feel less guilty.'
'Yes sir,' Grijpstra said. 'I'll take up your request with de Gier. I myself don't care much one way or another, but you know how willful the sergeant can be. Old love. De Gier can be persistent.' The Volkswagen jangled into a long street lined with factories, and wheezed past a railway station. 'Didn't you say we would have to find a circular road?' Grypstra asked. 'Yesterday I kept finding it, but now I seem to be missing it altogether.'
'Some sort of dike?' the commissaris asked. 'Built around the city? All roads leading out of town are supposed to connect to this circular road. That's what the local officers were saying. If we kept following the Ringway, we would see the headquarters of the Municipal Police, the State Police, and the Fire Brigade, three sizable six-story cubes. Very clever, all services within each other's reach.'
'The signs are pointing to Germany now,' Grijpstra said. 'Pity I can't use our radio. It's still on the Amsterdam channel. Wouldn't work here anyway, the provinces have changed to more modern equipment.'
'Keep driving,' the commissaris said. 'There'll be other signs that should guide us back to Leeuwarden.'
The signs kept pointing east. Grijpstra made the Volkswagen cross the center division. 'That's illegal, sir,' the adjutant said. 'I hope we were seen so that they can switch on their sirens and chase us and then we can listen to what they have to say and ask for directions when they're out of breath.'
'Quite,' the commissaris said.
'Now we're headed for Amsterdam,' Grijpstra said, pointing at a sign. 'That's much better. We're going south. In Germany we would be lost.'
'Keep following these rural lanes,' the commissaris said. 'They may twist and turn a bit, but they should take us back to Leeuwarden.'
Together they enjoyed the changing vistas of meadows lined by woods.
'Dingjum?' Grijpstra asked, half an hour later. 'I've been here before. This is where Mem Scherjoen lives, and over there's the State Police station where Lieutenant Sudema is the chief.'
'Why don't you stop?' the commissaris asked. 'It's time for coffee. The lieutenant can give us directions on how to get back to Leeuwarden.'
The lieutenant had gone home, but the corporal who had replaced him poured coffee. 'Are you in charge of this murder case, sir?'
'I am.
'Maybe,' the corporal said, 'you should take a few minutes to visit the lieutenant. I'm sure he would like to keep informed of your progress. He lives close by. Your adjutant knows where.'
'Nice walk,' Grypstra said.
The commissaris phoned his wife.
'Where are you?' she asked. 'I was expecting you. Couldn't you let me know you were planning to work late? You shouldn't be working, your leg is in bad shape. I could run you a hot bath.'
'I do love you,' the commissaris said, 'and I would like to get back to you, but you've no idea how vast this country is. We keep driving forever. I wish you were here, you have a feeling for shortcuts.'
'And a feeling for you.'
'Yes,' the commissaris said. 'And don't worry, dear.'
'Don't overstrain yourself.'
'Grypstra is taking care of me,' the commissaris said. 'De Gier is around too. As he isn't Frisian, he won't be of much use to us here; he can't identify with the locals. Grypstra and I fit within the mental climate. You know I was bora here, in Joure. I thought I had forgotten, but my origins have bubbled up again. We always forget how important first impressions are. They shape our characters, inspire us all our lives.'
'Dear Jan,' his wife said. 'Do what you have to do and then come back quickly.'
A little later, strolling between majestic beeches towering above fields of corn where songbirds chanted divine compositions, the commissaris and Grijpstra discussed their shared roots. A most beneficial beginning, they agreed, that had influenced both their lives. Corruption that occurs later can do little to spoil a truly blissful start. While Grijpstra searched for proper expressions that would illustrate his happy feelings, the commissaris talked about rural peace, forgotten by city slickers, so that they become irritated by their own and each other's spiritual filth, but here-his arm followed a leaping jackrabbit between neat rows of cabbage and waved at a low little cloud, glowing in late light-'here in the natural harmony of untrammeled nature…'
'Evil will have a hard time here,' Grijpstra said.
'Exactly, Adjutant. No wonder a spoiled soul like Scherjoen had to commit his misdeeds on the low side of the dike, and that he had to come to a horrible end in our parts, where the blessings of his homeland could no longer defend his miserable existence.'
The commissaris shook his head, to rid himself of Amsterdam associations. 'Ach, how hearlik is here ut libben.'
'You're speaking Frisian, sir?'
'De Gier found that expression. It means 'life is wonderful.' '
'Bah… de Gier,' Grypstra shook his head too. 'What does de Gier know? He's got a gift for languages, but it's all on the surface. How can he feel what truly goes on in our land? There's Lieutenant Sudema's house. Under the chestnut trees. A most pleasant little dwelling.'
Gyske Sudema stood in her front garden, under waving branches that held clusters of white flowers. The commissaris enjoyed the sight. Gyske impressed him as a very attractive woman, tall and slender, her long blond hair lifted by the breeze, her body tight in gleaming leather trousers and a clinging white blouse. Coming closer, the commissaris regretted to see that she was wearing a man's jacket across her shoulders, of too large a size, and hanging down on one side.
'Evening, Mrs. Sudema.'
Grijpstra introduced him. Gyske's supple hand felt moist. Her long eyelashes twitched. 'Not a good time for a visit,' Gyske said. 'I'm sorry, yes. Problems tonight. No, this is hardly the moment.'
'Your husband isn't home?'
'Visiting,' Gyske said. 'Sjurd is making a friendly call. He swallowed all my tranquilizers and drank some jenever. He's crying on the neighbor lady's shoulder now. She's alone too, for her man is a sailor. It's all right with me, they can do what they like.'
'Marriage problems?' Grijpstra asked. 'How could that be? Yesterday you and the lieutenant seemed so happy.'
'Happened just now,' Gyske said. 'Bit of a problem. The whole thing blew up.'
Grijpstra gasped. 'But he just sent me some information via Corporal Hilarius.'
'He had to look for comfort,' Gyske said. 'An hour ago, first time. Never visited the neighbor on his own before, my Sjurd, such a clumsy oaf.' Gyske's laugh was shrill. She patted the side pocket of her jacket. 'I took his pistol. He can't shoot himself now. He wanted to, but that's all crazy.'
'Could I have the weapon?' The commissaris extended a small hand. Gyske passed him the pistol. The commissaris handed it to Grijpstra. Grijpstra pulled the clip, ejected the chambered cartridge into his hand, and dropped the various parts into his pocket.
'Why don't you tell me what happened?' the commissaris said. 'Once a problem is shared, it can be solved. Let's hear about the mishap, dear lady.'
'All right,' Gyske said. 'I started it, I know that very well, but I'm damned if I'll feel guilty. It wasn't sinful at all. Sjurd is from the past. I'm not. I read magazine articles and the psychological column in the paper. I live with the times. I know what things are like today. When I do it, I do it.'
